This is the start of an award-winning, middle-grade, twenty-first century series about a set of sisters. The books have been hailed as 'modern classics' and likened to several beloved historical and vintage series from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. I borrowed this from my library, willing and hoping to be wowed.
MY THOUGHTS:
The four Penderwick sisters, along with their widowed Dad and beloved pet dog, are on their way to spend three weeks at a holiday cottage. The stately property, Arundel Mansion, has a smaller cottage on its grounds, which they'll be renting for the duration.
Rosalind, aged 12, is domestic and responsible, and while at the Arundel estate, she develops a crush on the good-looking teenage gardener named Cagney. Blonde, blue-eyed Skye, aged 11, is adventurous and mathematical. She tends to lose her cool and say outrageous things. Dreamy 10-year-old Jane loves writing fiction and playing soccer. Batty, the very youngest, is a sensitive 4-year-old who adores animals and insists on wearing a pair of costume wings with her everyday clothes.
Hmm, I'm sorry to say that I was underwhelmed by this pilot book. For this to have won the National Book Award strikes me as an overly generous decision. The pogo-stick plot keeps jerking us from ho-hum incidents to highly dramatic ones, then back again. And these girls have such sassy attitude! They take an instant loathing to their refined landlady, Mrs Tifton, who can't hide the fact that she doesn't want them always springing up wherever she happens to be. Yet the events of the story prove that Mrs Tifton is quite justified in her negativity.
She asks them to stay out of her formal garden for one very specific day while competition judging takes place. Do you think they can manage it? I can't help playing devil's advocate for this lady, who is presented as the story's villain. Perhaps I would've resented her cranky grumbling too, if I'd been the target age group, but my gosh, I can certainly see her point of view now. (I guess Mrs Tifton might be one of those Boomer/Gen X ladies who are nicknamed 'Karen.' Perhaps I'm being a bit of a Karen myself by taking her part. I'm putting myself out there, since I'm the right age, but I really feel I'm making a fair point.)
I guess since the Penderwicks were only there for three weeks, Mrs Tifton might as well have sucked it up and got it over with, but the garden incident pushes me over to sympathy for her. Who can maintain equanimity while their passion projects get destroyed at crucial moments right before their eyes? I'm amazed she doesn't cut their father's contract short because of that.
The thing that sets the Penderwick girls apart from other story book families such as the Marches, Melendys, Moffatts, and Quimbys, is that they strike me as annoyingly obtuse and blinkered. They can't seem to understand that they are seriously putting Mrs Tifton out. Instead, they put up an aggrieved front as if she's the one who is putting them out.
Then about two thirds through, the story finally takes off, because of Jeffrey, Mrs Tifton's 11-year-old son. Jeffrey is a musical prodigy. He longs to study piano, but his mother is keen to send him to Pencey Military Academy, to shape him up to be a soldier, in the footsteps of his celebrated grandfather.
She's aided and abetted by her pompous fiance, Dexter Dupree, who radiates vibes that he doesn't want a stepson anyway. I wondered if there really is a Pencey Military Academy in Pennsylvania. Having googled it, I suspect Jeanne Birdsall might have adopted one of the horrific 'phoney' institutions Holden Caulfield was expelled from in The Catcher in the Rye. Brilliant move if she has.
Anyway, Jeffrey decides to run away, and the book suddenly becomes more interesting.
The upshot is I'm going on with the series and hope it keeps growing on me. The Penderwick dad is a nice fellow, although a bit clueless and out of the loop. (Batty's life gets saved twice during their vacation, while he's off the scene.)
I'll plow on but I suspect I can only take bad-tempered Skye in small doses. She's presented as some sort of Jo March-like crusader for justice, who deserves admiration, but strikes me more as someone who keeps doing her block because she has zero control over her own emotions.
Anyway, til next time.
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Note: I'm sure it's merely a coincidence, but the Penderwick Dad shares the same given name as the Melendy Dad. They are both called Martin. And both Martins are beloved, academic, and understanding young widowers. This is a bit disconcerting. I thought, 'Hey, haven't I seen you before?'
Next up will be my review of The Penderwicks on Gardam Street.
Also, I invite you to check out my Middle Grade and YA series page.
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